


Comfort

by MidnightEternal



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Corypheus the dick, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dorian's a precious flower child, Established Relationship, Exhaustion, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Latin as Tevene, Legit his fault, Multi, Non-sexual undressing, Sharing a Bed, Sleep Deprivation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 12:54:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7440121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidnightEternal/pseuds/MidnightEternal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bull walks in on Krem and Dorian napping in the afternoon. It's adorable. </p><p>OR: Dorian doesn't sleep well when he's researching important things, Bull charges Krem with a mission to get him back into bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Comfort

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again, my dears, I am here for your feels once more. 
> 
> As always, translations are at the end of the sentence, and I have used Latin in place of Tevene for all but the word _Amatus_. 
> 
> It is becoming my mission to add more Krem/Dorian/Bull to this site. I will fill my OT3 with fluff. 
> 
> As always, please, enjoy <3

"Dorian, you still up there?" Krem called up the stone steps of the Library.  
  
"As always, _Amatus_ ," the mage replied, his fond tone reaching Krem's ears easily.  
  
Krem climbed the stairs, rounding the corner to Dorian's cosy nook, and came face-to-face with a large, almost-toppling, pile of books and papers. The research tower rested atop a table that Dorian had commandeered to work on. The mage, himself, was standing, facing away from Krem, his body turned towards the bookcase that could be seen from the top of the stairs. His bare shoulders were tensed, his back somewhat hunched over, and the muscles of his arms bulged, as if he was gripping something too tightly.  
  
Without any warning, Dorian slammed the tomb in his hands shut, the force of the action causing the sound to echo throughout the alcove. The Altus turned to the table, carelessly dropping the book onto its surface on top of several pages of writing in the mage's own hand. His staff hand came down, fingers splaying across the book's front, his other hand draping itself over the Tevinter's eyes. He took a deep breath, head hanging, and swiftly moved to dig the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. As he exhaled, Krem took in the pinched skin of his lover's face, and glanced over the research tower once more.  
  
"That's enough, you'll bruise your eyes. You've been in here since sunlight, you're going to bed."

“I cannot find _anything_! It’s as if he doesn’t exist! How am I to prove he was just another simple human, mulling around like the rest of us?”  
  
Dorian's hands slid upwards into his hair, gripping at the soft strands. He looked at the other man, face twisted in distress, a look of self-loathing in his silver-grey eyes. Krem could only watch him for a few moments more before he steeped forwards, directly in the mage's line of sight, and tenderly collected both of Dorian's hands, gently prying them from his dark hair.  
  
"For me, Love? Please, just come and _rest_ ," Krem pleaded.  
  
" _Vos autem, Amatus, et non alius_ ," Dorian said, a weary smile painting itself on his face as he slipped into Tevene. (For you, Beloved, and no other.)  
  
"Good. Surely this," Krem started, modding his head at Dorian's work, "Can wait until you've slept. Don't think that Bull and I didn't hear you sneak out this morning."  
  
Dorian threaded his fingers through Krem's, gazing into his love's dark eyes. A frown pulled at his lips, and he drew his brows together.  
  
"I am sorry, _Amatus_ ," Dorian pleaded, shaking his head.  
  
Krem startled, eyes growing wide, he pulled Dorian closer. "No, no, my Love. It's fine, we didn't mind. We just wished you'd woken us if you were having trouble sleeping."  
  
Dorian's head fell to Krem's shoulder as the other man wrapped his arms around his tired body. Krem ran his fingers through Dorian's hair.  
  
"C'mon, _Amor_ , let's get you to bed," Krem whispered, soothingly. (Love.)  
  
Dorian hummed in agreement, and let himself be led by the hand down through Solas' workspace, and through the battlements, taking the longer way around, yes, but there would be less people, less appearances for Dorian to worry about. Krem opened up the door into their room; _theirs_ , once it had been only Bull's and Krem's, but Dorian had started leaving his things there months ago, and it always made the two mercenaries practically explode with joy when they found anything from a kohl stick to a jar of Dorian's expensive oils.  
  
Once Krem had tugged Dorian over to the bed, the mage sat heavily, slumping in on himself, arms leaning on his knees, his spine arched over. Krem sat next to him, placing a comforting hand on his back.  
  
"Let me help you undress," the Soporati said, stroking his hand up and down Dorian's arched back.  
  
The mage nodded once, slowly straightening his body so he could sit up. Krem keeps a steady, supporting hand on his back, watching Dorian take a few steadying breaths. He's dizzy, unfocused.  
  
"I've got you, Love," Krem says, moving to kneel in-between Dorian's legs, and starting to unbuckle each strap on his robes.  
  
It takes Dorian a moment, but he soon reaches up to assist his lover, undoing ties that bind pieces of his clothing. Once his robe is off, Dorian bends to unlace his boots, and Krem sits back, doing the same to his own. Dorian shrugs off the pieces of his clothing, and exhales heavily in relief. He looks up in time to see Krem pull his shirt off over his head, and his battle-hardened fingers deftly undo the laces of his binder, tugging it from his body. Those same fingers dance below his naval, untying the strings of his breeches and leaving them loose on his hips; showing the smallest hint of his smallclothes from underneath. The dark eyed man looks up, seeing Dorian's wide-eyed expression, and the love and passion in his stare. He smirks.  
  
"After you've slept, Heart. This can wait," his taunts, walking forward and bending to pull loose the strings of Dorian's breeches. "I just want you to be comfortable enough to sleep."  
  
Dorian kisses just below Krem's collar bone, a silent thank you while he's too tired to think straight. Krem kneels on the bed and begins moving Dorian into place, pushing the man onto his back and making sure his head is firmly against a pillow. Dorian lets the other Tevinter manhandle him without protest, too exhausted to want anything more than _closeness_ and _sleep_. Krem lies down next to Dorian, pressing his forehead against the mage's, and connecting their gazes. Silver to copper.  
  
"Promise me you'll sleep more, Dori. You're burning yourself out with all these early mornings and late nights," he pushes his head forward, causing Dorian's to rock back gently from the shove. "Your mind needs the rest, too."  
  
Dorian looks at him through half-lidded eyes and hums an acknowledgement.  
  
"Thank you, _Amor_ ," Krem breathes.  
  
They curl against each other, their heads together, arms wrapped around one another's waists, legs entangling. It takes only minutes, moments that flutter by with the ever-passing wind, before they are breathing deeply, and evenly, asleep, and oblivious to the world.  
  
Sometime later, a mere hour, Bull opens the door. The only other person that would without knocking. He looks over at the bed, a fond smile gracing his face, and walks over to place a tender hand on Krem's head, stroking his hair. The man is already half-aware, having watched him from the instant the door had started to open. Bull's gaze flickers to Dorian's form, and then catches Krem's eyes again, Krem smiles. A silent conversation: mission completed.  
  
Bull removes his hand, and stares down at his boys, watching over Krem as he re-settles, moving deeper into Dorian's hold. The Qunari takes in the forms of both of his dark-skinned lovers, their soft hair, and muscled bodies, toned from years of fighting. His eyes move downwards, from their heads to their tangled legs, drinking in the differences in his two 'Vints. His smile grows, and he removes his harness, sliding onto the bed behind Dorian. The man needed as much safety and comfort as possible right now, especially on days like this when the lack of _answers_ got to him this badly. Bull hooked his arm over both of his boys, and let his eyes close.

And, if later into the night, Dorian wakes and feels two different arms wrap further around him, effectively trapping him on the bed, and soft voices that whisper reassurances in his ears, subduing his self-destructive thoughts that tell him he needs to be doing _something_ , well then, perhaps he doesn't say that he's never felt so loved before.


End file.
